I plucked a snow-drop in the spring,
And in my hand too closely pressed;
The warmth had hurt the tender thing,
I grieved to see it withering.
I gave my love a poppy red,
And laid it on her snow-cold breast;
But poppies need a warmer bed,
We wept to find the flower was dead.
Dream Song
Sara Teasdale
(1)
Poem topics: flower, red, spring, tender, cold, warmth, love, snow, I love you, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
Submit Spanish Translation
Submit German Translation
Submit French Translation
Write your comment about Dream Song poem by Sara Teasdale
Best Poems of Sara Teasdale